


I Win

by RagChinaDoll



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, alternative ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-26 06:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15657930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagChinaDoll/pseuds/RagChinaDoll
Summary: They saved the world (again) but it cost them just as much.Spoilers for Fallout. Please don't read unless you have seen the latest movie.





	1. Ilsa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snovyda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snovyda/gifts).



> I'll apologise now cause I fell I have too so..... Sorry. 
> 
> Film and characters not mine and I think this time you'll all be thankful for that.

Lane was down.

There was no time to celebrate his indisposition. His lack of movement may not mean threat to her or Benji but there was still the pressing matter of his...

"Benji!" she called eyes widening at the sight of his limp body hanging from the ceilings rafters. With one quick motion she grabbed the jagged bottle from the floor and sliced the rope that bite into his neck. The loud thud of his body hitting the floor echoed in the room as she just as quickly turned her attention back to the ticking bomb behind her. 

Her hands hovered above the metal shell of the bomb unsure what she should be doing to the the impending doom from erupting. 

"Benji hurry I need you," she said urgently glancing quickly at his unmoving form. With a ghost of a whispered, "No!" she moved back to his side. 

She couldn't afford to stumble in her actions, with harsh movements she pushed at Benji's side's with her hands hoping the pressure of her finger tips would startle him awake. It did nothing. His head lulled softly as she pushed his body to lay on his back. Shaking his shoulders her voice rose as she snapped, "Benji wake up. I need you. Ethan needs you."

Desperation seeped into her bones. The soft ticking of the bomb increased in her ears growing louder and louder with each passing second. 

She placed two fingers against his neck grimacing at the fading pulse tapping beneath them. 

"Benji," she breathed closing her eyes against the sudden sting within them. Without opening her eyes her fingers found the com tucked in Benji's ear, her own having slipped from her ear during her fight against Lane, slipping it into her own ear she whispered, "Forgive me."

There was a crack as the com connected. 

"Luther you have to talk me though the steps," She called. Reluctantly stepping away from Benji's side. A growing ache blossoming in her chest. 

She grabbed the bag from the floor with the tools inside them. Stopping momentarily to swiftly and tightly fastened the ropes around Lane's wrists and ankles. 

_"Where's Benji?"_ was Luthers almost instantaneous reply. 

"He's..." she couldn't get the words to leave her lips. 'He's dead,' her mind filled for her but the words couldn't reach her lips. All she could say in short sentances was, "He's hurt, bad, can't help." 

_"Okay,"_   there was tone she had grown to understand. She hated the sound of it. Always had and didn't think she would ever change. A tone that spoke louder then the four lettered word Luther had replied with. 

A tone that told her he already knew. An unvoiced acceptance of facts yet spoken. 

She followed Luther's instructions to the word. Acting as quick as she could with one set of hands. She knew if Benji had been standing by her side together they would have skilfully worked to deactivate the device. To wait with held breath for Ethan to accomplish his side of the mission. 

As she worked she had to force herself to not stray away from the task at hand.

To not look at the lump on the ground. To not jump to his side and force life back into him. Grating her teeth to not react to  Lane as he awoke. His nails on chalkboard laugh bleeding into his ears as his eyes sneered up at her. 

"We're out of time. We'll have to cut." Luther's strong voice came over the com. "On the count of three we cut." 

He began to count down, her hands sweating as they tightly held the cutters in place. Words died on her lips, the energy she needed to voice her concern laying motionless in front of her. She could almost hear his voice in the wind his own panicked concern that he wouldn't get to speak. 

Holding her breath she braced herself for the blinding white of death. For cold embrace off...

Nothing happened. Nothing changed. 

Her eyes feel to the bomb.

The bright red counter slowly fading into nothing but an empty screen. 

"Benji!" she called. 

The cutters fell from her hands as she leapt over to his side. Falling to her knees, finger tips already searching his neck for a pulse. It was barely there. The meekest of beats pushed against her fingertips. She moved her hand to check for air leaving his lungs though his nose. There was nothing. 

She's heard it said a few times that when situations like this presented itself that 'training takes over.' Instead of thinking you act on impulse. Hands finding the correct position on the fallen ones chest to beat compression to the heart. 

Luther spoke in her ear. Asking questions like, 'What's your location? How bad is Benji? Is Lane down?' but she couldn't split her focus at this time. 

As important as disarming the bomb had been so was this. 

She couldn't let Benji down now. She couldn't let him die not when she had the chance to help him fight.

She owed him that much. She owed this team that much. 

"It's of no use," Lane smirked. A sinister triumphant smile across his face evident in the sound of his voice. She could feel it burn into his skin. 

"Come back Benji, Ethan can't lose you now. Not after this."

Thirty compression down she moved to give two breaths. Her fingers graced his pulse point. The hole that had opened inside of her grew. 

The pulse had grown weaker even with her aid.

She'd gotten to the fifteenth compression of her second round when she heard footsteps walk to the door. The nearest thing to her that even resembled a weapon was gripped tight in her hands, raised and poised prepared to defend herself and Benji. 

"It's us," Luther spoke stepping into the room with his hands raised. He walked softly over to them, gentle lowering himself down to be beside the two of them. Almost mournfully he said, "Jesus Benji."

"He's not breathing," she rushed to say her control slipping with fear. 

"Jesus Benji," Luthers words echoed by the door announcing the arrival of Julia. Whatever shock she must have been feeling it didn't show as she was quick to set her medical mind to work. "How long has he been down for?"

"Couple of minutes," Ilsa answered. She'd once again reached the thirtieth compression nodding to Luther to give the breaths. He did so wordlessly.

As if though cloud she faintly heard Julia speaking beside her calling out for help though the walkie attached to her jacket. Action continued around her as the fight for Benji's life was taken over by Luther and Julia, she could hardly keep track of it anymore her focus instead taken over by a study of Benji.

Many times had it been said when a person had been knocked out they seemed to appear as if they where sleeping. That was not the case here. On the journey over she had spotten a sleeping Benji, how peaceful and gentle he looked, nothing like the slack broken features lain before her. Even without words Benji held this aura around him that seeped kindness. Right now that aura seemed tainted and destroyed. 

This thing in front of her barely looked like the Benji she had slowly gotten to know. He was sweet and caring, his features soft and gentle not hard edge and pale. She'd grown to understand why Ethan cared so deeply about him. 

Closing her eyes at the thought of the other man. A dark foreboding thought brewing in her mind. 

This would break him. 

Rising to her feet, the new arrival of further medical assistance hardly fazed her. She swayed gentle as they brushed past her to reach the injured man on the floor. One spared a glance at Lane but the angered look on her face no doubt warned him away from approaching the villain. 

Benji was collected onto a gurney, his body easy to move in its immobility, his hands falling from the side as they continued treatment and transported him to where they had further aid awaited. 

The room felt so dark. Like all the lights had been snuffed out. 

Snuffed out by the man chesire grinning before her. 

"You!" she growled her eyes sharp as she stepped towards him. 

Whatever happened next became a haze. 

She'd later learn how it was Luther that managed to pull her away and out of the room. How he had second thought of doing so, almost opting to allow her to continue to reign kick after kick at the bond man. The amount of damage her attack had inflicted injuring several ribs but still not enough. 

What she didn't need to be told about was the sound of his croaked laughter. Even in a haze she could hear that. It would haunt her for the rest of her days. 

Or the glee as he hissed, "I win."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent far too much of the night when I should have been sleeping writing this. I apologise if any of the character's seem OOC. Again I hardly write Ilsa a lot but Lane's voice seems to come naturally to me. Should I be concerned about that or...
> 
> Please review they help. xx


	2. Ethan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan can't bear to hear the news of Benji's attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must make the suggestion that you have a really cute fluffy animal next to you or a gallon of chocolate. or whatever you have handy for comfort. 
> 
> Please take note of the warnings for this chapter.

His sleeping habits of late had been fuelled primarily with fear.

Right now however there was no fear only peace. He could enjoy the comfort of the darkness around him as he relaxed in sleep for the first time in a long while. He felt no fear of losing his loved ones just the knowledge he'd succeeded. He had won. 

If he had had the choice he would've stayed here in the quite for as long as he could. The world could turn a little longer without his presence. Reality however had other thoughts as the lull of sleep subsided and he began to feel the complete pull of consciousness.

"Ethan," Julia's sweet gentle voice was the first thing that he locked onto as his eyes opened. The warm smile that greeted him was fighting for first place of the best thing he had ever seen. there was something that should have unsettled him in her smile, had his mind been functioning at full speed he would have seen how it didn't reach her eyes, how they held glistening tears within them. "Welcome back."

There was a quake in her voice. The next clear indication that something was wrong. 

A smile of his own spread on his lips as he looked up at her, managing to say, "Hi," as their hands found each other. The urge to speak grew louder in his mind. He had to get some of the words he had been concealing for so long spoken, "Listen I..."

She stopped him mid sentence before he got the chance to make any of the apologies he owed her. "You don't have to say anything." She stepped away from him sadly word of her own being forgotten as a pressure grew in her eyes. Another clue evident before him of him that he missed. 

He saw his team behind her as they stepped into the room almost as if on cue. 

Julia stepped over to them, speaking quietly first to Ilsa before Luther gave her shoulder a squeeze. Faintly he heard her whisper, _"I can't be here when you..."_   before she disappeared outside the tent. Both team members watching her leave with quiet sorrow in their eyes. 

He was a fool for not realising then that something, someone, was missing. Could he really keep blaming the pain medication and healing injuries for his lack of focus. He was a leader after all. One of the best. Yet with evidence clear before him he was clueless.

"How are you feeling?" Luther asked in a caring manor. 

"A little banged up," Ethan replied, his voice recovering his usual strength. "But I'll survive." 

The final clue cried out in the room. The voice that didn't speak, didn't make a joke to release the suffocating tension hanging in the room. The one who was always able to bring light back to their darkened minds.

The clues that he had been missing finally snapped stirred in his mind clicking into place. He quickly glanced around the room searching for man who should have been there. Who should have been with the team as they quietly allowed themselves to begin to heal. 

And the world seemed to fasten it's pace. Moving so fast he could barely keep up. 

"Where's Benji?" he asked after his search failed to spot the man. Their silence as answer enough for him to know something had happened. Judging now by the sorrowful glints in their eyes, adding in Julia's reactions, it was something bad. "What happened?"

"Lane," Ilsa answered honestly. "He... Lane got to him." 

He could feel his chest ache at the thought that Lane was able to place his dirty hand upon Benji. How he couldn't have been there to protect his friend like he had promised. His chest felt as though some one hand had punched it's way though his ribs. "How bad is he?" 

"It's not good Ethan," he wasn't sure whose voice it was that replied with that comment. A strange, loud, buzzing began to drill in his ears deafening him. 

"He's going to...make it..right." his throat burned.

No one answered him. Even with his head becoming a dizzying mess he shook it not wanting to take no comment for an answer. "Tell me," he demanded with gritted teeth. Spit flying though the air. 

Still they both remained silent. A clear evident they had prearranged how to handle his reaction. 

He could feel nothing anymore. Not the physically pain his body ached with. Nor the mental turmoil seem to matter to him. He had only one thought occupying his being. One thing pushing his being into action. With strength he assumed he shouldn't have he swung his legs off the bed, thankful that the sides had not been pulled up, and pushing his body to stand on shaken legs. The sting of the IV rippled up his arm as he pulled it from his skin. 

"Don't be a fool Ethan, get ba-"

"If you don't take me to him now I'll get myself there," he didn't know where the strength in his voice came from. His determination or the rage screaming in his mind. But he wouldn't allow Luther or even Ilsa to stop him from reaching Benji. His chest heaving, heart bounding louder then he'd ever felt, eyes filled with fire he all but snarled at them, "Help me or leave."

There was no further complaint.

Wordlessly Ilsa lead them to the next room of the tent. He could sense Luthers need to reach out and help him walk. He hadn't been aware of how pained his legs where. Twice he had almost stumbled on the few steps it took to walk. But he had to get there on his own, he couldn't let Benji see him in pain or distress. If he turned up with Luther's holding him on his feet it would only detriment his friends recovery. 

Once there the sight before him almost knocked him to his knees. 

Benji was lain on a bed ghostly white, dark bruising peeking out beneath the collar bracing his neck, and cuts scattered around his forehead. Julia was in the seated next to him, looking up at his closed eyes, speaking in a hushed tone while her fingers stroked his bandaged hand. She was quite, intimate in her words, but the room was small so her voice carried over to them. 

"Thank you Benji. For being there for him. Taking care of him. Saving his ne... saving him when I couldn't. I know you love him as much as he does you." Her voice was shaken slightly but still strong. A glimpse of light and hope. If only of the faked kind. She quickly looked back at them, letting them know she was aware of their arrival, cheeks red with tears. 

Benji remained silent. 

"What happened to him?" Ethan asked. Throat dry and painful. 

"He was hanged," it was Ilsa who replied. Her voice hushed as if afraid to wake the man on the bed.  "Lane he... he and Benji fought. I couldn't save him in time." Rage commanded Ilsa's voice.

Stepping forward stole the air from his lungs. His feet finally giving out from under him.

"Easy Ethan," Luther's arms had wrapped around his body keeping him from hitting the ground. He helped Ethan finish his trek to the bed side, nodding at Julia who gave her seat over to him. 

"We've got to get him back home," Ethan mumbled his eyes completely focused on Benji. 

"Ethan he's brain dead," they may have stopped the bomb but the words that left Luther's lips exploded in the room as if they were one. "The machine is breathing for him. Once the machine is off..."

This was wrong. He shouldn't be standing here starring at a defeated Benji. This wasn't the role the man played. He wasn't allowed to be the one who died first. 

"I won't let that happen," Ethan announced. He could hear the panic in his own voice. He barely sounded like himself. "You have to do more, get other doctors here, specialist, you can't let him die. I can't fail him." 

"Ethan don't," Ilsa spoke above him. Her warning didn't seem to deter his panicked pleading. 

"No, your tests are wrong. He can survive this. He's strong. He-"

"Stop," Julia cried drawing all of their attention to her. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't do this to him." She placed her hands over his. Looking him in the eyes as she continued in the same soft voice she had spoken to Benji with, "His brain was starved of oxygen for too long. His neck is broken. If he survived the trip back, even with just one of those injuries, he'd be a vegetable relying on machines to do his living for him. He would never be the same."

Every word that Julia spoke felt like a crush against his heart. Air was pulled from his lungs strangling him just as Lane had seemingly done to Benji. Tears lingered on the edge of his eyes. He looked away from everyone, not bearing to see their grief stricken faces, instead focusing on the tent's ceiling. 

He took several deep breaths to try and bring back some control to himself. His mind screaming loudly in his mind pushing him to fight further, to not back down from this challenge. 

And then he looked back at his friends. Saw the pain in their eyes no doubt reflected in his own. He looked at Benji, at his soulful friend who he had let down. 

"Can he hear me," Ethan asked sounding completely defeated. 

"He's not there, Ethan," tears freely slipped down Julia's cheeks as she shook her head. 

"Of course he is. He's always there when I need him." With the sight of Julia's tears his own took permission to fall. "I need to speak with him. Alone for a moment."

"Okay," Julia mouthed stepping back to her feet and indicating for Luther and Ilsa to follow her out of the plastic door. 

Once alone in the room a scream ripped from Ethans' lips. A pure animistic cry of rage, fear, loss. Pain erupted though him as he repeatedly slammed his hand down on the nearest object in reach. His body ached, his mind ached, but most of all the loudest ache of his entire being erupted from his heart. His heart that lay broken on the bed. Cry after cry broke free from his lips. His face damp with tears that would not slow. 

He pulled himself to his feet needing to be closer to Benji then the chair allowed him. 

His shaken fingers reached for Benji. 

"I'm so sorry Benji," He whispered, his thumb sliding though Benji's hair the action feeling familiar but also foreign at the same time. "I couldn't protect you. I failed. I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to you and I failed."

As much as Solomon Lane had done this to Benji he was as much at fault. For making promise he didn't keep. For not acting fast enough. For not ending Lane's life when he first had the chance. 

His free hand reached for the switch on the machine. Lungs burning, mind screaming, heart never able to heal again. 

"Forgive me."

They stopped the bomb. 

Saved the world but at what cost to themselves.

He'd failed the mission after all. 

Lane had won. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried so many times writing this chapter that I almost backed out of finishing that ending scene. I need to write something happy soon. 
> 
> Can anyone guess whose reaction will be next. 
> 
> Once again please review they help. x


	3. Luther

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luther doesn't have a good method of coping with grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get your self some tissues cause I didn't hold back in this chapter. WARNING: chapter includes sad puppies.  
> 

"He was a good man," one of the nameless mourners gathered around the grave had said, "It's always the good who die first."

They'd just lowered Benji's body into the ground beside his fathers in the Dunn family plot. It was sad how many where already gathered in the small section. Three gravestones lined together with a forth prepared to be placed. A whole family under ground taken one by one though the years. 

"Seems to be the way," Luther whispered in reply. He knew the man knew not the exact details of Benji's death. No one outside of IMF and CIA where aware of the circumstances, but that didn't mean the man wasn't allowed to express his feelings towards the purposeless death. "Unforgivably so."

Benji's funeral was held on a sunny English morning two weeks after his death. At first Luther had felt angered by this. That the sky had the audacity to be so bright on one of the darkest days this team had faced. Then he thought of the man they where laying to rest. That the world was as bright as he was reminding them of his beauty. 

"Benji had asked another friend to say a few words for him," Brandt was speaking now, his voice barely controlled, spitting his next words as the man came to his mind. "But he couldn't be here so you've to put up with me."

He cleared his throat as told an edited version of his and Benji's first meeting, shared inside jokes and allowed his tears to fall freely. He envied that. How carefree most everyone at the funeral had been with there tears. Letting them fall with no fear of judgement. 

Brandt's words came to an end indicating for those gathered by the grave to gather a handful of dirt to throw onto the coffin as walk away. A wake with refreshments had been organised by the only living member of Benji family to make it, a distant cousin he never spoke off, which most everyone was going to attend. Not the team however. Wordlessly they chose not too. 

They where the only ones left standing there now, by Benji's side one last time before they had to move. No one wanted to be the first to leave him but knew they must. 

Eventually they left as a group. 

He left the three by the cars, opting to allow the younger three the time they needed without him to heal their wounds in whatever respect they saw was suitable. He knew they wished for him to stay with them but Luther had something he had to do. Something he'd been putting off that couldn't wait any longer. 

He'd heard it said that after a funeral a person could begin to heal. The mourning was drawing to a close with a sense that you could move on and keep living. There was one snag in that for him however. He wasn't sure if he had ever started. 

Sure he was no machine, the loss of Benji had left something inside of him broken. Yet in all respects of the word he'd been his normal self. Watching out for the others and being sure they dealt with their own pain ignoring his needs. 

He had to make sure Will's anger didn't push him to do something he'd regret. The man hadn't been coping in a healthy way choosing to cover his sadness with anger directed to everyone especially their absent leader. He'd acted first in denial, much like Ethan, then the anger had taken control refusing to let him go. He couldn't say he could control the younger agent but he had been able to hold him back somewhat. 

Jane had needed him in her own way. She was strong on her own but that didn't mean she had to be. He knew there would be a moment that brought her to her knees. It happened in the middle of a song three days after she'd seen Benji's body. Some song lyric she'd overheard had forced sobs from her throat. He'd helped her back to her feet and let her weep on his shoulders. He knew it was coming, had been keeping an eye out for it, after that she'd worked though the stages one by one. Acceptance was the last for her.

Even Ilsa seemed to want to be around them. Around those who knew the man she 'failed to save'. Perhaps wanting their forgiveness for being unable to bring him back. For surviving when he hadn't. No amount of reassurance from him had eased the lines of sorrow from her eyes. 

He'd heard it expressed that funerals where for the living. So those left behind could share their grief and comfort one another. To express thoughts and stories, hold each other and wish they didn't have to. And once it was over was the point for them to begin to heal. A beginning of the end of grief. 

Now he found himself alone for the first time. Alone with just his thoughts. 

Benji's wasn't his first IMF funeral, he doubted it would be his last, he just never thought he would be going to one for this man. 

He could break the agents he'd seen die into categories. There where the pure of heart ones he knew wouldn't have last long whether they where killed or quit this wasn't the line of work for them. The cocky ones who thought they knew everything, tried to be better then they were and paid the price even taking others with them. The brilliant ones who didn't deserve the end they received was a small and notable group. 

And then there was people like Benji Dunn. 

A man who deserved a category all for himself. The kind of man who had innocent eyes and an glowing heart. Who was always eager to learn, to teach, and too help. Cocky in his own manor but never to the sense of self righteousness. Someone who found a place in your heart even if you had no intention of letting him in. 

Even after all the shit he had face, Benji stayed idealistic. With a need to make a difference in the world no matter how small it was. He hope humanity would find a way to right itself. He believed in humans. 

Luther had always feared it would be that hope to be Benji's downfall. Whether it be he trusted the wrong person and pay too higher price. Or he'd awaken one day and lose his hope breaking him 

He wasn't sure which he feared the most. As least with one of them they could fight to get Benji back. The first option was the finality they found themselves in now. 

Benji gone and the fight lost. 

"Can't put this off much longer," he said to the empty room. He was protecting the team now even without them around. 

IMF had a proceedure that must be followed after the death of an agent in the field. There house was to be emptied off all items, private or not they had to be boxed up and shipped to a cold warehouse where they would sit forgotten and gather dust. They'd all made a promise to each other to not let that happen to certain items. 

They'd made a pack to not let that happen to each others most personal possession. 

 _"Make sure they don't lock up my work,"_ Benji had said somewhat tiered in the middle of the night. Even as he continued with half a smile, Luther knew how serious he was, _"I've worked too bloody hard on that stuff to let some idiot corrupt it or abandon it."_ Benji had made the same promise in return should he be the first to die. 

This was something he felt he owed Benji to do. But also something he didn't expect the others to do. Boxing away Benji life would have been too much for any of the others to cope with. Especially Ethan who'd already had to do some several times in the past. 

He didn't have to search the small apartment to find where his work was kept. He knew almost everything there was to know about Benji Dunn. Knew the man used to sleep in a t-shirt he'd owned for the better half of twenty years. Knew about the box of with a collection of notebooks under his bed he'd scribble in to collect his thoughts. That he was he first out of his uni friends to get a good job.

But it seemed there was one thing that Benji had kept hidden from them all. 

"I didn't know about you," Luther said to the dog titling it's head in confusion at him. 

He placed the box of hard drives onto the table as he approached the dog. He scratched behind it's ears earning himself a lick to his hand. He smiled gently. The first smile he'd felt on his lips in weeks. He began to retracted his hand only for the dog to wave it's paw at him, a clear indication it wanted Luther to continue. 

Eventually the basset hound looked away from him expectantly to the door. The sight pained him. He knew the dog was waiting for it's master to come walking into the room and greet him in the way every dog owner did when they returned home. With dog kisses and body scratches. But that would never happen for this dog again. It's master wouldn't walk though the door with a huge smile on his face happy to see the gentle and compassionate face of his animal. No doubt the dog had been missing Benji just as they had only unaware as to why he'd not returned yet. 

The basset hound looked away from him and began to cry with deep depression. He took a seat on the floor to be closer to the dog, his hand finding it's way to the dogs head as he tried to ease some of it's pain away. "He's not coming back."

The simple little statement only increased the depth of the dogs cries.  It felt like a punch to Luthers chest with every whine. Even a dog seemed to be grieving easier then he.  

"There was nothing we could have done to save him," his own voice got heavier as he spoke. "I know that. We saved the day but the cost was too high. He shouldn... It shouldn't have been him. I should-" His eyes where burning by this point. Throat raw as he held back a rising sob. His cheeks growing damp, "If it'd been me... the team wouldn't be so broken."

He hadn't realised he had begun to cry until he felt the dogs cold nose against his cheeks, trying to give him some comfort even as it felt deep pain itself. 

"There's no miracle this time. No last minute trick where we all walked away, We lost." 

Hours passed with him seated on the floor. Himself and the dog side by side. Tears slipping down his face in numb movements starring off into the middle distance. A weight lifted from his body allowing his emotions out. He was never one for public displays of emotions. He preferred to take himself away and deal with things independently. He should have done taken the time sooner instead of ignoring the growing need for solitude. 

At some point he moved to the more relaxing spot of the reading chair. His head in his hands and the dog curled by his feet. Tears drying on his face, body aching with more then physical pain, his mind racing. One thought loud in his mind.

"Solomon Lane beat us. He wins."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EmergencyGif  
>  After a conversation with the always inspirational Snovyda this chapter and the ones following have changed. She's not the one who inspired the sad puppies though. That's totally on my and I need to give everyone a dag. Also Benji's got a Basset Hound because I want one and I've been watching too much Columbo. 
> 
> Luther's method of grief: Delayed grief. When a person forces themselves to not think of what the death of someone has done to them. They spend more time helping others deal with their pain ignoring their own. Until it comes to the point when they cannot avoid it any longer. 
> 
> This story is getting longer and longer by the day. I first intended it to only be like three chapters long and somehow it's grown to seven. I'm hoping that's where it ends cause I don't want to make it too long. 
> 
> Anyhow, if you're still reading to this point thank you so much for your patience in the update. The next one may take a while too as I've got to get the mind frame for this. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, please review they help. x

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because of a tumblr post and Snovyda, who I feel i should just gift all my work too, being an eternal angst inspiration-ner (don't think that's a word but nuh).
> 
> Inspirational tumblr post Here


End file.
